Utter Chaos
by Single Rose
Summary: Beginning as little ponderings from both Bruce and Joker's mind, then going into a story of love and war. And CHAOS. Pure, utter chaos. Joker/Bruce Wayne, rated T until later on. Bound to be some blood and sex appearing in it somewhere. Stay tuned, guys.
1. Brute Force

I wanted to improve my writing, and entice people... you know, make it more interesting. So I made this. I'm hoping to do one from Joker's point of view in a few days as well... perhaps then I might add in a story after that. It all depends on how well this plays out.

This is Christian Bale's Batman and Bruce Wayne. And this is Heath Ledger's Joker... mostly because I adored the interpretation.

I don't own Batman, or Joker, or any characters from the series. But I did write a story with them in it. So have fun reading, guys! Thank you!

* * *

It had always been rather dark in Bruce's mind. From the constant onslaught of villainy to the backstabbing mob bosses around him… he had always thought the worst of things. One could call him a pessimist. He knew it to be true that in Gotham, there was darkness. It was a sad city; many had left, in fear of several criminals, ransacking the town… his town.

Batman's town.

The undercover hero knew quite a bit about foiling plans. He knew how to stop a car speeding down a congested street. He knew the railway to take to stop the 9 o'clock train from running over a tied up damsel. He knew of almost every single old warehouse where a mob or gang might coincide. He knew the street names like the back of his glove. He knew the time to run out and save the world from the light of the moon. He knew the time to hide from the world again by the shining of day.

He knew all that was to be known about the city of Gotham.

But he did not know the Joker.

He could not for the life of him figure out what was behind those scarred lips and that painted face. The hands that held knives, guns, bazookas, detonators, apple peelers even… he did not know where they had been. The superhero of Gotham, known for taking down any mad man, any evildoer in his tracks… he could not take down the clown. Not for the life of him.

That mind… that screwed up mind of his… Bruce could not untangle it. It was a long, fully matted mess of odds and ends, stitched together with sewing thread and tied badly. The loose pieces were coming apart. His sanity was unraveling. It was impossible to understand something that was deteriorating as you thought about it. Every second gone was a moment lost in that man… that clown's head. Soon he wouldn't even HAVE a mind. He would have…

Chaos.

With chaos in the Joker's brain… the city would be doomed. If the very level of insanity that no one had ever achieved finally snapped into the other's cerebellum, Batman would be no more. He wouldn't be ABLE to be anything more… he would have a true, suicidal madman on the loose. And the city would be in ashes by the second hour.

Bruce knew that the Joker was not a madman… yet. A sadistic and masochistic freak, yes. Crazy? No. He knew he wasn't crazy. That man made plans… intricate plans, conceived months in advance. He waited… he waited for the things he wanted. He would sit there all day, waiting for a bus to drive by so he could take it over to achieve a proper bank robbery. He would stand at the pier for hours until a boat came to drop off the goods he ordered, only to be made into bombs and detonators and used to almost blow up the city; almost. That was where Batman came in.

Batman knew enough about the Joker to not be scared, but piteous. The man was slowly falling off his rocker. It was a very steady, gentle process… but a moving one nonetheless. Soon, the Joker would be confined to a padded cell. Bruce knew that when the time came when he snapped, there would be a brief moment of silence before the real havoc began.

Utter Chaos.

Bruce didn't want chaos. But he did not want that man in a padded cell the rest of his life. It was clear the Joker craved fresh air- he walked through streets, he ran through buildings with buses… high excitement things. He was a thrill rider. He lived on the edge… he just happened to be going crazy.

Bruce hated seeing men who so longed for the fresh air to be put away. And over the years (yes, years of torment with the dark clown), he had realized that this man was not crazy. The first time he had seen that man… it had been on a tape, filmed with one of his phony Bats tied to a chair, soon to meet his demise… that tape had certainly left the masked vigilante thinking that this murderer was just plain insane.

But Bruce knew better now. He knew the way Joker could be almost human at times. He thought about things when you said them; he provided almost intellectual conversation. He mulled things over in his head before he uttered a word, to make sure he knew what he was talking about. Not many thought about their words; the Joker calculated every syllable. Everything he said seemed to be right; he knew what was going on in Gotham, even if he had been in a holding cell at Arkham the entire time.

He KNEW things. That was what scared Bruce.

That was what scared Batman.

Bruce no longer had a thing to do to this man. He couldn't kill him; he and the Joker had already realized that neither could kill the other. The Joker had insisted he was 'too much fun' to kill. And Batman… well, he had his rule. And that rule, no matter how crazy a rule for a superhero fighting evil to have… was his one and only law he would never break. Not even for the Joker.

Of course, the Joker used this fact to taunt him. Said that Bruce was too 'self righteous' and thought only of being 'noble' and 'good'. The clown insisted that Batman must show everyone who he was; he was probably sick of all the good he had done. But Bruce wouldn't take off his mask. And the few times when the Joker had caught him, he had always been within an inch of cutting that mask off and seeing who was beneath. Bruce always shivered when he thought of how close the other had gotten to his mask.

To him.

Was he becoming attached to the hopelessly deteriorating clown that broke his city into shambles and left him to pick up the pieces? Or was he just sorry for him? Could he even be sure any more? After years of trying to catch this man, then succeeding, then failing, then succeeding… all in a vicious, barbed circle that threatened to eventually spin too fast and kill them both.

So they were in it together. Bruce did not want it to be like that… but he knew it was fate. That was what the Joker was for. Without Batman, Joker was nothing. Without the Joker, Batman was…

Nothing.

It was hard to swallow, but it was true. Bruce knew it now, that he couldn't just keep trying to catch this maniac. The man wasn't catchable. He was the firefly you reached for with your open jar and watched it get so close… then slip through your fingers and fly off into the night. But one day, Bruce was scared he would grab out for that firefly… and crush it before it was in the jar.

Broken.

Lifeless.

Dead.

That wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want the Joker DEAD. No, never. But he was afraid of his own 'limits', as Alfred put them. Afraid that one day, he would lose his temper, strike out… and cause the Joker to fall. And never stand back up. And for some reason, that scared him. And it wasn't because it would break his sacred rule.

It was because it was the Joker. He didn't want that man gone from his life. From his undercover, cape-wearing, mask-sporting, bat-mobile riding life. If he could have fixed one thing in his lifetime, it was the Joker. He would want that man right side up… like a box with brand new porcelain china inside, it would break if held too roughly. And then it could not be replaced. You could glue it back together, but you could never heal the wounds… the cracks, the large bruises and scars, and scabs.

The heartache…

Had the Joker found a soft spot in a formerly hard, cold Batman? Had he somehow weaseled into his sub conscience, and made a home there? Why was it that Bruce thought about that clown all the time? Even worried for him?

It was because the Joker was irreplaceable. Once he was gone, there wouldn't be another Joker. There would be lesser villains claiming to want to rule the earth, to destroy Gotham, to be the supreme ruler of the human race…

But there would never be another Joker. Only the substandard evildoers of the underbelly of society. The kids who didn't get the toys they wanted for Christmas; the spoiled children in Gotham who grew up to be the spoiled adults. Who would grow up to be the scourges that Batman was known for beating off.

…Where would the Joker be? Joker was the ultimate enemy. He was smart, and quick witted, and he had thousands of weapons at his disposal. He was slightly crazy, not afraid to take a life, and he teased. Oh, Batman didn't always like the teasing when the nicknames became too affectionate…

It tugged at his insides. It made his heart burn, and it made his breath quicken. He hated it.

And yet he loved it.

He hated the Joker.

And yet he loved the Joker.

Chaos. Utter Chaos.

* * *

The end of this chapter. The second one will be the Joker's point of view, I think. I hope you all enjoyed it... or at least got some sort of thrill! See you next chapter.


	2. Knives

Chapter 2! Not as good as chapter one. But after this, I'll be getting into some actual story plot. I just wanted to write how they felt about each other, and stuff. So there you go!

It's Heath Ledger's Joker, Christian Bale's Batman. I don't OWN Batman, or any of the characters I might mention in this fanfiction.

READ ON!!

* * *

He was alone. No mob bosses carving cuss words into his old mahogany tables, no goons sitting around the tv smoking… just him. Not even the Batman had come…

The Batman. Hmm.

That superhero was a mystery. A complete mystery.

The Joker sat down in one of the large plush chairs in the room, playing with a knife in his fingers.

Batman… he had first heard of him when he was getting ready for a bank robbery, and the news was doing a special on some masked superhero that went by the name of… you guessed it! Batman.

He had been no threat then. Small change. Just the kind of mysterious guy in tights. But when the Joker actually met him… it must've been at Harvey Dent's little benefit… he was strong.

Too strong. How did someone get such strength?

The strength was one of Joker's major threats, of course. When he wanted to kill someone, he didn't want the Batman around. He didn't want to be… intimidated. He just wanted to do what he set out to do, have some fun… and come back. He wasn't looking for a fight from the bat in tights. He just wanted to do his job.

The Joker had been a villain since before he could remember. Being a kid, he had stolen from stores, never being caught. He wasn't one for the doctor path, or the lawyer, the fireman? No, the Joker was one to introduce chaos. He loved chaos.

He thrived in that sort of danger. The sort that destroyed towns, and made people go insane.

The problem was, it didn't make Batman go insane. And that was what he wanted, right? He wanted Bats to hang up his cape and let the REAL ruler of this town take over.

But the hero would never do that. He would fight, or die trying. And even Joker knew about Batman's one 'rule'. Which meant he wouldn't die. But did the Joker want to kill BATMAN… that was the question.

No, he didn't think so. Not Batman. He was too much fun. But it wasn't a passing fancy, playing with the other. Underneath the superhero was a very mysterious, muscled man. A strong man… with money. The Joker could tell that all that equipment was a whole lot of cash to heap out.

The clown enjoyed the small things in life; wearing some old, comfortable clothes, maybe a nice pricey coat, but that was it. He wasn't in the whole villain business for the MONEY. No, he just enjoyed the excitement of hanging your head from a car and letting the roar of sirens behind you ring in your ears. He enjoyed the rush of adrenaline when you ran off down an alleyway to escape a throng of cops.

He enjoyed the Batman to Joker chase. The Batman and Joker investigation. Every time the Bat got closer to him, the Joker enjoyed every moment. Whether he was beating the crap out of him, or just growling. Batman liked to growl.

The Joker was not crazy. Oh no, not in any way. He was smart; he knew what he was doing. He didn't mind boasting about himself either. He knew that he was pretty quick witted, and he knew that he was a cut above the rest, strategy-wise.

But there was something with Batman that got him a bit bothered. Sure, the man was handsome. And definitely well trained in fighting, using gadgets and all that. But the hero upset him, because he enjoyed getting close, then ripping away. As if teasing the bat that had suddenly occupied his life.

The Joker reveled in the other's pain, and his own. Pain was a spine-tingling sensation. He loved it to death. And watching Batman in pain made himself feel better. It showed that maybe he could conquer the beast, take down the bat, and finally get on with his life.

But every time he got so close to the other, he was shoved away some time or another. By the police, by gravity, by the bat's own hands.

It sickened him. He didn't like it. What if he WANTED to be near the bat?

Well, why would he want to be near Batman? He was a hero. Joker was a villain. Did he WANT to get caught?

No… he just liked the Batman. He liked him in some strange, twisted way. The other was strong, muscled… buff, if you will. He was tall, robust. And he was mysterious. Who didn't want a mysterious man?

So, the Joker had fallen for some strange tight-wearing guy who fought criminals by night. He had done worse before. But it was still strange… Batman, why? He was the one trying to put him behind bars!

Then again, the Joker was the one trying to put BATMAN into permanent sleep… but Batman didn't kill the Joker. No, it was all because of that stupid rule!

The Joker wasn't sure what he wanted. Did he want the Batman dead? No. For him to disappear? No, definitely not.

One thing he knew was that him and Batman… they were alike in a few ways. People had split feelings about Batman; but more and more were starting to hate him; like they hated the Joker. Plus, the Joker wouldn't be so infamous without his buddy, the Batman. And vice versa. Joker knew Batman would not so important without having 'crushed' Joker the first time, and then a second time… and now he was free again. Fancy that?

People were getting anxious about the Joker being on the loose. But it wasn't because he was a crazy, makeup wearing bad guy who murdered and exploded things for fun.

It was because Batman wasn't killing him. Instead of just dropping him off a twenty foot building, he caught him and pulled him right back. Instead of letting him explode, he pulled him away from the large bombs. He was a protector of everyone!

Joker found it rather sick. Stupid Batman. Why couldn't he just let him die? That's what a hero was supposed to do, right? Let the villain die, to save the people? So was Batman being selfish? Did he want the Joker alive?

It was confusing the Joker's already have gone mind. It was more than he could bear. What was Batman thinking?

And why did he want so badly to know?

Okay, so here it is- the end of the second chapter. Hopefully the third chapter will start up the plot, huh? I know what you're saying; WHERE IS THE PLOT!? I'm getting there! It's coming! Just read on!


	3. Stalemate

Chapter three. An actual plot...? Yes indeed, folks. Here it is.

I don't own Batman, or any of the characters.

And this is Heath Ledger's Joker, and Christian Bale's Batman. Just to help you out, in case you get confused! Thanks a lot guys!

It was never quiet in Gotham. Bruce knew that… Batman knew that. It was all a large spinning wheel. Villain comes, makes a threat… the police try and fix the problem. If they can't, they employ Batman. Batman takes the criminal out, takes them to Arkham… and then new villains present themselves.

Bruce was already used to the whole 'catch one, catch the next', and so on and so forth. So as he traveled out, under the gleaming stars of a perfect Gotham night, he was already prepared for the villain.

He knew this man. He knew his tricks. He knew everything about the Joker. And he would catch him, all over again.  
But how long would it last before that madman escaped again? Bruce shoved that aside. He didn't need doubts on such a perfect night for catching a criminal.

* * *

The laughter echoing through the old abandoned mansion didn't intimidate Bruce- not one bit. He had become accustomed to the others sickening laugh, and the twisted, scarred lips, and the murderous, yet oh-so mocking stare… and those green eyes, staring from the middle of two pits of darkness… He sighed, crouched low on the roof, like a gargoyle, stony and cold, unmoving- impenetrable.

As he finally swung by the gutters of the building and crashed in through an already partially broken up window, he forward rolled right into the other man's legs. The Joker seemed to squeak in surprise before tumbling, off balance, onto his side. He laughed when he saw who it was.

His favorite little toy.

"Bats! How great!" The Joker pushed himself to his feet easily, cracking his neck and watching the other, eyes deathly mirthful from within the dark circles framing them. "I was hoping you would come! And how silly of me… I should have cleaned up the place!" The clown walked slowly, watching the Bat, who had already gotten to his feet.

Bruce could already see the knife sticking out of the Joker's hand, ready to slash. He knew by that amusing grin that the other had something else up his sleeve… not literally, of course. He probably had a bomb to blow this place sky high, located somewhere in the building.

"Alright, Joker." Batman said angrily, watching the other. "Going to hand yourself in and make this easy for both of us?"

The Joker laughed at that. Was he SERIOUS? Turn himself in!? Why would he ever do such a thing? He didn't even bother responding to the question, simply pulling out the knife, holding it up with a large grin, his tongue lashing out to subconsciously lick his lower lip.

"…I'll take that as a no." Bruce growled, suddenly lunging forward. He dodged a swing of the knife to his throat, grabbed the arm and pulled it behind the Joker's back, hearing a small crack as it was captured there.

The psychopathic genius, caught in the other's grip, began to laugh, his voice hoarse as he began to cackle. "Oh, Batsy, you got me again!" He glanced up at the other, his tangled green mane falling over his shoulders, the old purple trench dusty and dirty.

"Ready to head back to Arkham, Joker?" Bruce asked, not the least bit amused with this man. He was through with the games. He wanted this guy chained, tied, and hooked to the wall. He didn't want him escaping again.

"Aww gee, Bats. Do I have to go back already? I was having so much fun!" The Joker used his free hand to gesticulate towards all the dead bodies laying there in the dust and soot. So he had done a bit of damage… all in good fun, of course.

"Yeah, we're leaving." Bruce growled, pulling the other forward. The other continued to chuckle as he was moved along. Suddenly he felt a stabbing pain and groaned, arms loosening their hold as a knife embedded itself into the padding of his suit, pressing in deep enough to puncture skin and wound his stomach. He doubled over and before he could move out of the way, the Joker's foot slammed into the side of his face.

"You see, Bats… I really don't like Arkham. Can't stand it. The enclosed walls, the starch white clothes, and all those nurses and doctors, claiming I need… rehabilitation? Nah, I don't need that." The Joker had pulled himself back, rolling his shoulder to get the kinks out, holding his knife in his gloved hands. "C'mon, Bats. Get up." He said with a large, crooked grin plastered on his face.

Bruce groaned, rubbing the spot before standing up. The clown was halfway across the room now. He stared at him, shaking his head. His jaw ached… had he broken something? "Joker… after what you've done-"

"What I've done? Are you going to go into the whole 'criminal, villain' routine? I've heard it Bats. We're not new to this, are we?" He giggled, stepping forward a tiny bit.

Bruce had his eyes on him. That stupid man. Didn't he get it? They would never stop chasing each other. It would become this long spiral down into death. He knew it would. They would eventually take each other out… Bruce knew he would never kill this man. He wouldn't, and he couldn't. Because ever since he had really thought about this, he had realized what a role the clown played in his life. Sure, it was strange to think of it that way… but it was true.

The Joker was a part of Batman.

Bruce sighed. He was becoming soft. Really soft. He was a superhero! He couldn't let this man just… play him for this kind of person.  
But he had. And now he didn't know what to do. So he stood dumbly as the Joker came closer and closer, knife held.

"...You awake, sweetheart?" Asked the shorter man, grinning as he stood, staring up at him. His dark eyes watched the other with some sort of feral hunger. Batman growled as he blinked his eyes, seeing the dangerous clown and stepping back.

It was too late. The Joker had shot out his arms and had the knife up to his neck. "Dontcha want to show me who's under that mask, Bats?"

"…No." Bruce suddenly elbowed the other in the solar plexus and shifted away, stepping back as quickly as he could. The Joker coughed, the wind knocked out of him. "Joker, do you remember what you said to me, on the top of the elevator, when Gordon and all his men were coming up the stairs?" He asked in his deep voice.

The clown across from him's face turned to confusion as he tried to recall exactly what the hero was talking about. "…I say lotsa things, Bats. You're gonna have to help me out here."

"You said… that we were destined to do this forever. That… I wouldn't kill you because I was too self righteous, and you wouldn't kill me…"

"Because you're far too much fun. Of course I remember! Why?" The Joker asked, wondering why the superhero was suddenly bringing that up. He walked forward a bit, knife placed safely in his pocket… for now.

"Well." Batman stood stiff, as if unwilling to admit defeat… a stone cold statue. "…I think you were right."

The Joker, for once, looked completely and totally dumbfounded. His jaw dropped, a hint of yellow teeth showing as his brow rose and his eyes went wide. His usually hunched posture went slack and he simply stared.

Batman was agreeing. With him. The Joker. Was he dead? Was this heaven? …No, the Joker wouldn't have gone to heaven. He shook his head, trying to snap out of it.

"…You think I was right." He said it as a statement, seeming to try and convince himself that the other had said it. He then began to laugh. Hard.  
Bruce rolled his eyes, groaning. "Shut up." Said the muscled man, glaring at him. He didn't need this now. He had known he would be mocked for saying so… but as least they wouldn't fight. At least for a while.

"Now? After all this time, you realize?" His voice suddenly began to sound choked, and he stood across from the Bat. "Oh, fuck you!" The Joker growled, staring at the other and shaking his head. His hand came up and rubbed his temples.

Now it was Bruce's turn to look confused. Wasn't he supposed to be excited and having that mocking pleasure he always did when he proved the hero wrong? What was the sudden anger for?

"Alright, alright, Bats." The Joker walked dangerously close, his neglect for personal boundaries yet again reappearing. Bruce pulled his head back a bit, watching the other as he continued. "So you realize now, eh? You realize that it was destined to be a stalemate? Well, isn't that just fucking WONDERFUL. I'm glad you realize after… what, how many years? How many years have I been chasin' you, Bats? And you, chasin' me? What, you think I do all this stuff for the kicks? Sure, some of it's tons of fun! Beating the cops, driving off in a stolen ice cream truck… but what, don't you have any idea of what I was trying to do? ANY idea?"

Bruce stared down at him. The man was saying that he had done it all for him. He was already prepared for the Joker's retort. He sighed, shaking his head slowly. He would give the other the satisfaction… the murderer seemed steamed, and he had a knife stuck in that pocket.

"All for you, Bats. To get your attention. To… to lure you over. Is it… dramatic? Selfish? Yeah, sure. But you know me, Bats!" The clown had begun to laugh again… but it was far more maniacal than he had heard it before. His hands had come up on either side of Bruce's face, pulling it down so he would look at him. "You KNOW me, Bats." He repeated in a quieter voice.

And Bruce did know the Joker. He had found out so much about this psychotic murderer, since they had first met. It was a strange thing, their… 'relationship'. Batman was reluctant. He knew how he felt about the Joker now. But he was BATMAN. He had a duty… as Batman! Bruce did not matter when a murderer… a crazy murderer… was running amok on the streets, killing people and burning down buildings. It didn't matter, what Bruce thought of this man. Batman was the one who was in charge.

The tongue slid out again, sucking habitually at that red, moist lower lip. The Joker stared up at the other, pale hands still clutching either side of the hero's face. Both stared at each other… Bruce fighting within himself, why the Joker just seemed… upset.

And Bruce wasn't used to seeing him upset. It was surprising… but now they both knew where each stood in this matter. That each was still at a stalemate. Because of the other.

Bruce finally sighed, sounding defeated, and grabbed the other by the arms, pressing their lips together in a ferocious kiss. The clown's hands grasped the long, sculpted arms to keep himself up against the other's muscled chest. His eyes, tiny green orbs in seas of soot blacks and grays, closed slowly, his scarred grin turning up against the other's hungry lips.

Bruce was a man of many faces. He knew how to romance a lady, and how to seal the business deal. He knew how to beat down criminals, and he knew how to throw rich parties in his complex. He knew how to make friends. And he knew how to be successful.

But Bruce, not for the life of him, knew, nor wanted to know, how to get the smaller male off of him.

The kiss was sensual and soft and sweet just as fast as it had become hungry and feral a moment before. All Bruce knew of kissing had been shot down and changed into an animal instinct he hadn't known he possessed. His heart thudded in his chest, and he could feel another beat against his own, under layers of mismatched, custom clothing. The arms of the murderer beneath him had wrapped about his neck and Bruce's hands slid down against the small of the Joker's back, pushing him up to greet his lips more openly.

It was disgusting, and it was beautiful. The Joker could feel the other's churning emotions everywhere… the hesitant hands that after a moment shoved the old trench coat from his shoulders. The tender lips that soon became lustful and deep once more. The changes in the Bat's thoughts was evident in every movement. But it made for such an interesting kiss. It changed every moment, and it kept the clown guessing.

"Unh.. B-Bats…" The Joker huffed out, panting against the other's lips. The hero against him had slowed down as well, and he breathed out slowly as he felt the other's hands, splayed against his chest to push a tiny bit. Not a violent gesture…

"…Fuck." The Joker murmured, before his befuddled expression turned to one of pure joy. He laughed, and it wasn't half as maniacal as usual. His arms had looped back around his so-called enemy's neck and he gave him a sort of childish hug before pushing off of him and away. He grabbed the trench coat lying on the floor, hoisting it up onto his broad shoulders.

Batman, as always, was quiet. He watched the other, eyes seeming to understand what had just happened. He wiped his mouth quickly, finding that red makeup all over. He coughed, turning away from the other. What had he just done…

"Well sweetheart… I gotta run. Buuuut I do look forward to seeing you again! Hopefully our next meeting will be just as exciting as this time!" The Joker grinned, blowing a kiss to the other and seeming to watch him a bit longer before rushing off down the stairs. Batman ran after, but by the time he got to the stairwell, the clown was gone.

"…Damn it." Bruce rubbed a hand against his temples. What had just happened, and how the hell could he reverse it?

* * *

The end of chapter 3! YAAAAY A PLOT! A PLOT! WHO CAN BELIEVE IT!?

Yeah. So please read the next chapter, once it's up! Thanks a lot, guys!


	4. Marching In

YEAH I know. "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!? WE WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEEEEXT!"  
Well here it is.  
This is Batman/Joker slash. Don't like it? DON'T READ IT. Please. It does me a favor of no hate mail! Anyways, this is also Bruce/Joker of the movie world. I really loved the movie Joker, and the movie Batman. There may be some elements of cartoon Joker, or cartoon Bruce. That's… because I like combining them.

I don't OWN any of the rights to Batman or Joker. It's just a fanfiction.

* * *

"Alright, ALRIGHT." He heaved himself from the floor where he had been laying on the carpet. He fixed the old green vest, placing his hands on his hips and checking himself like a model in the mirror. "Hmm…"

The green tendrils of greasy hair fell over his face and over his ears, which was easily remedied by a forceful hand combing it all back. He scratched his chin with a frown, smudging white face paint.

He was dressed in his finest- his good vest, his nice button down shirt, pinstripe pants… he was ready for action.

"Ooo Bats, what 'til ya get a load of me!" He chuckled as if about to leave on a major date, and grabbed an ancient looking cell phone off a nightstand in the makeshift bedroom.

After the pleasing sound of loud dial tone and then fuzzy, bad reception, the clown waited, holding the phone to his cheek, not minding the white makeup now all over the wireless telephone. "Hmm hmm hmm…" He hummed some delightful tune, which he had gotten stuck in his head for the longest time.

_"Oh when the saints… go marchin' in…"  
_ The Joker stepped out onto the pavement, breathing in the smells of the city; asphalt, smoke, gunpowder… and salt. He could smell salt. That meant the winds were blowing.

"And when the winds blow…" The clown didn't bother finishing his random comment, instead rushing to the beat up white truck waiting for him. He would be driving solo today; no cronies sat waiting to drive him off to some location so he could blow it up; instead, he would go by himself.

The Joker had become a bit more easily excited since his little escapade with the Batman. He was now a bit happier, gleeful of blowing up his favorite things. Smashing flowerpots had never been more fun.

For some reason, violence had become an even more important part of his life. Breaking things was exciting. It proved that that exact thing in front of him was not INVINCIBLE. It could break, and it could never be repaired. Sometimes it could die. It depended on what you were breaking.

_"I could break Bats..." _The Joker laughed aloud, smacking the steering wheel in hysterics. THAT was a good one. Like he'd ever get to see the masked vigilante again, after he had practically 'made a fool of himself'.

Oh, the clown prince knew what the bat was thinking right then; he knew it was wrong, and he knew he shouldn't be feeling anything… and he probably regretted it… felt disgusted… wanted to throw up. Maybe he had! But the Joker wanted to see it. He wanted to see the Batman churn in disgust. He wanted to see him powerless.

_"Oh when the saaaaints go maaarchin' iiiiiin…."  
_

* * *

"I'm tired, Alfred…"

"You have been lately, Sir. Maybe you should take a nap."

"I can't. I have to go to the meeting."

"Mr. Fox already cancelled. Please rest."

The butler glanced over at the television when a sudden news report came on. He walked over quickly, about to turn it off before the entrepreneur could see, but Bruce was far too quick.

"Wait…" He sat up from the large bed, leaning on his arms and watching the newscast.

_"The city is in an UPROAR today, as the famed criminal 'the Joker' is out and about again. Five citizens were shot in a coffeeshop downtown. When the cashier, a bit shaken, was asked what the man of crime was doing in there, he replied, 'ordering a decaf.'… Naturally, we have not heard much more information on this case, but we will broadcast any gained evidence as soon as we-"_

"Damn it!" Bruce got up angrily, slicking his hair back with one hand and staring at the television. "Five people!? Five!? He usually only does one, to set an example. What is he thinking?" He sat back down on the bed, groaning. "…I can't sleep NOW, Alfred."

"…Yes, well…" Alfred glanced at the television, nodding his head. "Go on then, Mr. Wayne. I will see you later on."

"…What do you think he's doing?" Bruce asked as he got his shoes on and grabbed his motorcycle helmet for his trek to the underground batcave.

"…I think… he's getting your attention." The butler replied simply and effectively, nodding to Bruce. "…Be careful." He walked off to the stairs and leaving him alone. Bruce sighed, getting into the elevator.

Getting his attention? Why?

* * *

_"Oh how I'd want to be in that number…" _He hummed, tapping his feet and sitting alone on the roof of a tall building. Wind buffeted his hair left and right, His purple trench coat pushed about limply. He was waiting, still.

He had been waiting for five hours now. And he hadn't gotten anything! But… he could wait. He would be patient. It wasn't a big deal. The bat might have been busy… maybe he just caught the news program. Maybe he only now saw all the police officers around the café, or the tons of cars crowded around the center of town.

…Maybe he just didn't come.

The Joker frowned at that. The Bat came to EVERYTHING. He wouldn't miss this chance. His dark red lips twitched and he licked them subconsciously, pushing his hands into his pockets. He stared down at the mass mayhem far below him, breathing in the scent of sulfur.

_"When the saaaints go marchin' IN."_

A crack was heard and the Joker turned his head in surprise. It was too late- a fist crashed into the side of his jaw and he tumbled off the side of the building, laughing wildly at his luck. So the Bat did care!

Wind blew by him fast, and he could see the earth rapidly ascending towards him.

"Oh dear…" He murmured under his breath, lost by the chaos about him.

Something caught his ankle and he was hoisted up, up, and up until finally he had his face pressed against a brick wall, still upside down. He could hear a deep, gravelly voice shouting down at him.

"Five people!?"

"Ooo so you DO care, Batsy!" The clown laughed happily, clapping his hands when he knew the other wouldn't drop him. _Far too easy…_

"I care about the five people you killed!" The hero's voice was still monotone, but the coldness tinged in the way he spoke, the much more venomous glare… the Joker could tell he had struck a nerve.

He was hoisted up easily enough, and the Bat grabbed his collar, shaking him over the side of the building as if threatening to drop him. He looked… upset. Angry.

"Would you rather I just killed one?" The Joker asked with a pout, watching the other shift back and forth quickly as the vigilante's strong arms shook his body.

"…" Bruce threw the other across the roof and watched his thin body tumble across the hard flooring. The villain laughed hoarsely, pulling himself up onto his knees, which seemed to be shaking.

"I guess not. Well, Bats, I can't ALWAYS get your attention. It's hard enough getting you here to talk- and we always fight! I don't want there to be any hard feelings… let's just talk!" The clown smiled, but it faltered a bit when the tall man punched into his gut, causing him to double over. "Ooooo hoo hoo, you're so EAGER to inflict pain. What's wrong, Bats? Am I some sorta stress reliever? Not that I mind! Keep going!" That earned a kick in the face, and he fell, turning around on the floor and grasping his ringing ears.  
A song was playing over and over, and bells… a loud siren… screams. His head hurt. "Ooo you've done it now, babe…" The Joker's voice came out in a bit of a whisper; so quiet that Bruce had to lean in to hear exactly what he said.

The clown on the floor was still holding his ears as if trying to muffle sound, thought the ringing was from the large kick he had received. "Ooo that was a knockout…" The clown mumbled absently, feeling himself fly through the air as his collar was grabbed and his face was brought right up to Batman's… another stare down.

"DON'T underestimate me, Joker. I will not tolerate it." Bruce's words were icy; it was obvious the hero was upset about the five deaths.

"Diiid I kill anyone you knoooow?" The Joker seemed to sing it a bit, music still playing in his ears, an eerie, hurting symphony. His head ached and he giggled like he was on laughing gas.

"…None of your concern." Batman replied in the opposite tone of voice of his villain counterpart- cool, calm, and slowly regaining more and more composure.

"Whaaat, do you think I… I wrote down their naaames or somethin' to check their relatives to find you out?" The Joker snorted at that. "You give me… give me… FAAAAAR too much credit, sweetcheeks."

"Shut. UP." Bruce growled out. The Joker chuckled again, his head rolling back as he regarded the other with slightly glazed over eyes.

"Mmm… you know you… waaant to hear what I'm gonna saaaay… right?" He asked with a raised brow, his dark eyes boring into the criminal who grasped his collar, holding him up above the city as sirens went off, police men ran about in search…

"I could just leave you over there for the police." Bruce gritted out through his teeth. He didn't want the other getting beneath his skin. He didn't need it right now.

"Getting under… under your skin!? Ha! He ha he … sounds like fuuun…" The clown coughed and grinned up at the other. "Okay, okay… let's seeee here… you found me to release… release frustration. Because you're… aaaangry about what happened LAAAAAST time. AND my cry for… for attention? You don't like it. Am I… reading this… uh, this situation correctly?"

"..." Batman's silence was usually a quiet consent. The Joker went on with his dulled speech, constantly distracting by the fading and amplifying music ringing in his ears.

"Aaaand you KNOW that the only uh… only way to get rid of your FEEEEELINGS is to KILL me. But you don't want to kiiiiill me, do ya Bats?" The Joker's grin widened and his eyes darkened. "Is it… your one 'rule'? Or is it something else? Something I might… not know about? But maybe… but maybe you should TELL me. I'd LOOOOVE to know. LOOOVE to hear it, Baby."

One more hard punch at the jaw, and the Joker was completely knocked out. Bruce carried the thin body over one shoulder easily, bringing him down from the tall building and dropping him off at the police station.

Bruce didn't think about what the Joker had said. In fact, he didn't even think after dropping him off… not about anything. He went home, and he slept. He slept better than he had in ages.

He had no idea why.

* * *

SORRY this took so long! I started up school again- LOTS of work. BUT I will try and add a chapter to my fanfictions every couple of weeks. PLEASE don't give up on me! I hope you like it!


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